Arabella and Elijah
by xRandomestx
Summary: The story of Arabella (OC) and Elijah. How he lusted, loved and lost. One Shot.


The first time he met her, she wasn't paying attention.

Arabella was far more concerned with keeping as far away from his horse as possible. She curtsied and nodded whilst her father introduced him, but didn't take her eyes off the beast.

It would have made sense then that Elijah would have been more interested in the girl's best friend, Cassandra, standing beside her and paying him much more attention than necessary, but he wasn't. His eyes stayed locked on Arabella's cautious face.

_She is afraid of horses,_ was the very first thought Elijah ever had about her.

The moment her father dismissed the women, she turned on her heel and fled to the magnificent garden to the side of the massive house, her long blonde hair streaming behind her. Her best friend followed slowly, reluctantly. The men went inside and talked casually over a glass of port. She did not leave his mind.

The next time he saw her was at the dinner table that night. Whilst Cassandra sat beside her, sitting straight and tall and displaying impeccable manners, Arabella struggled with which utensils to use, how to sip her tea instead of gulping it all down in one go and how to not get gravy down the front of her dress.

Her mother took her out of the room and chastised her sternly before instructing her to change and return swiftly. Arabella left, concealing two bread rolls in her skirts, and did not return.

Her parents spent the majority of the night running around the house like headless chickens trying to hunt their rebellious child down. He looked outside of the guest room's window and immediately spotted the girl, still in her spoiled dress sitting comfortably on a high branch of the old oak tree outside of his window.

He watched her as she gazed through the leaves up at the night sky, her eyes drinking in the millions of stars above them. Elijah watched her for much longer than necessary before he pulled the curtains closed and retired.

The last thing Elijah expected was to fall in love. One dance, that's all it took for his cold, lonely heart to melt and to beat fiercely in his ears as he held her to him.

Arabella had grown used to his company over the past weeks he had stayed as a guest in her father's house and had found that Elijah wasn't nearly as repulsive or unattractive as the last few men who had stayed had been.

She had dubbed him worthwhile for her friendship, which gave him hope that it would soon turn to something more. He would not push or pressure her, however. These things take time. It could not hurt, though, to express his interest in her to her father lest he begin making plans to match Arabella with another, wishing to marry her off before her eighteenth birthday.

He watched her as she gazed intently over his shoulder at some commotion stirring. Everyone on the floor turned to stare at the young, snarling blonde haired woman who had just come marching out of the ladies restroom, much of her face, neck and dress covered in what seemed to be black ink. He recognised the furious woman immediately as the one who had jealously insulted Cassandra the night before. His suspicions were confirmed when he glanced at Arabella just in time to see a smug, satisfied smirk disappear from her face. She lifted her chin in victory, the smirk all but gone as the inked woman marched over and glared ferociously at her, trying to intimidate her.

Arabella stared back for a moment before reaching into her sleeve and pulling out her handkerchief. She offered it to the woman with a small, knowing smile. The woman snatched it from her fingers before letting out a short shriek of rage and storming out of the room. All the guests immediately went back to whatever it was they were doing prior to the incident.

He took Arabella's hand and they continued to dance. Elijah gazed down at her mock-innocent face and shook his head, amazed. He smiled at down at her and she regarded him coolly for a moment, waiting for a reproving comment or such, but at the lack of any discouragement toward her actions, she smiled back.

They were married. Though it was not all happy; she had been forced, rather than had agreed. It was clear that on the day, she did not even know that it was he she would be married to.

Although he was furious at her father for forcing anything upon her, and distraught to see her standing before him in her beautiful white wedding gown trembling, he was nevertheless pleased; she was _his._ Only his. No one else would ever touch her for as long as he lived, which was a _very _long time.

He carried her over the threshold of their new house that night and set her down. He smelled her fear and sensed her terror… of _him_. Of what she thought he expected they, as a newly married couple were to do that night. He quickly soothed her fears, promising not to so much as touch her before she allowed it, before she was ready. It broke his heart as she quickly dissolved into tears.

She allowed him to hold her as she simultaneously slept and wept that night, and he was grateful that she did not blame him for what had happened. The next morning, he rose early to start the day as he always did. Just as he was walking out of her bedroom door he heard her whisper, "I'm glad it was you," before drifting back off to sleep.

Oh, he was glad it was him too.

He was hopeful. She was happy in her new home, fluttering about all over the place and adding her own little touches, moving things around, making a list of what things she wanted changed or added. He followed her around like a puppy; not only around the house but also to every shop she wanted to go to. He bought her everything she wished and many things she didn't. Within a matter of days, their house was a home. It was warm and bright and cheerful, just like Arabella.

Her mother had not taught her to cook, Arabella told him sheepishly, as their first lesson had the maids running for buckets of water, fighting to keep the house from burning to the ground. So, he cooked for her.

Out from under the scrutinising eyes of her mother, she suddenly became very knowledgeable about how to sit and act at a dinner table, and also about which utensil should be used for what. Elijah smiled and raised an eyebrow at noticing this. She smiled and shrugged, turning a light pink under his gaze.

She was angry. He had convinced her that it was time to visit her parent's home and collect her belongings. Arabella stood close to him as he knocked on the door, and as it swung open and her mother's face appeared, she took his hand and held tight. He felt her nails dig into his skin as she held back her fury at seeing her mother's smiling, oblivious face, but he didn't react.

Instead of just collecting her things and leaving like Arabella was hoping, her mother insisted on them staying for lunch. Elijah, being the gentleman he was, accepted gracefully. As her mother readied their meal they packed up her belongings and carried them out to the waiting carriage.

By the time they were finished and lunch was ready, her father and Cassandra returned home from their duties.

Only Elijah and Arabella's mother conversed at the table. Arabella herself sat and seethed beside him, stabbing viciously at the food on her plate. The luncheon was tense and awkward and Elijah was very grateful when it was over. He wanted nothing more than to return to their home, where it was just them two, together.

Her father helped Arabella into the carriage, much to her disgust. As Elijah climbed in behind her he saw her wiping her hand on her skirts with a repulsed look on her face. She wanted nothing to do with that man. He nodded to her family, noting the envious, angry look on Cassandra's usually calm face, and then they left.

He was afraid. She was sick, unable to even sit up without his assistance. She had a fever, was emptying her stomach regularly and when she attempted to move a strong dizziness swept over her. He hoped that it was something that would pass quickly, nothing serious, nothing life threatening, but as a few days passed and her condition worsened he began to feel a kind of fear he had not experienced in a very long time, but also a determination. He would _not_ lose her. Elijah left his wife sleeping fitfully and went to the only person he knew for certain could save her without fail.

It was not hard to find the witch, Rachelle, working in her herb shop in town. It was, however, quite difficult to convince her that he was not there to harm her and that there was no need to stake him. He just needed her help. He demanded it. At last, it seemed, her curiosity got the better of her and she agreed.

He watched the witch's every movement as she worked her herbs and magic on Arabella, and slowly but surely her fever broke, her skin regained its usual colour and her sleep became peaceful. The relief Elijah felt at seeing this was monumental.

Rachelle stayed by her bed, watching over her all night long. The next morning when Arabella woke she was curiously surprised to see the herbalist, but as Rachelle informed her of why exactly she was there, she quickly became tearful and incredibly grateful. She threw her arms around her and wept her thanks. Just like that the two became best friends.

They had been married for months now, and not once had he asked or even spoken of _it_. She could see that he wanted her, _all_ of her. The dark, sensual look in his eyes every now and then when he stared at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention; the way his hands would brush gently across her shoulders or down her arms, sending pleasant shivers down her spine…

Arabella had spent many hours thinking about how much she cared about Elijah, how she had found herself staring at his strong back and shoulders, the perfect line of his jaw and how nice it felt to have his big, warm hands on her.

For days she fought with herself, her mind tormenting her, making her question her beauty, her worth, her confidence, her sheer lack of experience. What if he didn't like her? What if she didn't like it? She can't put this off forever. Eventually she made a deal with herself that on her eighteenth birthday, she would do it. She just had to trust him to take care of her.

A few days after her eighteenth birthday had passed she sat cross-legged on their bed, yelling at herself in her mind. Why had she gone back on her word? Why couldn't she do it? What was holding her back? She went over in her mind how much she cared about him, how she wasn't afraid of him, how she trusted him wholly.

She decided to talk to Rachelle about it. She travelled into town, arriving at her best friend's shop and immediately becoming calmer. The moment the door had closed, Arabella began asking Rachelle every question that came to mind. The witch sat her down, poured her a nice cup of tea and talked her through exactly what would happen and how she should expect it to feel.

Comforted and strengthened by her friend's words, Arabella returned home to find Elijah waiting for her. For a moment they stared at each other and then she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the passion she could muster.

He pulled back gently after a moment and gazed down at her enquiringly, not having to say anything for the question in his brown eyes to be understood. She nodded determinedly, trusting that she would not regret her decision. _Knowing_ she wouldn't. He swept her up then, kissing her passionately as he carried her up the stairs and to their bedroom. He made _sure_ that she did not regret it.

The last time Elijah saw Arabella, she was climbing into a carriage to go to her parent's house. With a little encouragement from Elijah, Arabella had agreed to relent a little and assist her mother in getting the house ready for the Autumn Ball that was to be held that evening.

She was wearing a simple blue dress that day, and her long blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun. Thin strands flew haphazardly around her head, and when the shine of the sun hit them it looked as if she wore a halo.

He reassured her of this being the right thing to do as they kissed chastely, and then he promised he would see her tonight. Of course, he never did.

He arrived at the ball that night and immediately looked for her. He asked her parents, both of whom had no idea where their daughter might be, and then her once best friend, Cassandra, who just shrugged.

Every guest assisted in searching high and low for the missing woman but in vain. Further investigation revealed that she was not the only one to vanish that night; the town's herbalist, Rachelle had disappeared as well.

To say that Elijah was upset when he found that the love of his existence was gone, leaving nothing more than memories in her wake was the understatement of the millennia. To find that her best friend; the witch that had brought her back to him, was also gone without a trace, just added insult to injury. Rachelle had returned her to him from the brink of death, only to steal her away when his back was turned.

Elijah spent many decades trying to find them, but to no avail. The witch was smart as well as powerful. After eight decades had passed, Elijah finally gave up hope. By now his Arabella and the traitorous witch had surely grown old and died. The thought broke him, and Elijah became just as cold, heartless and lonely as he had before she had come into his life. He never returned to their home or to that town ever again.


End file.
